Poems begining by B
/ page 52 of 94 /Bob White
© Edgar Albert Guest
Out near the links where I go to play
My favorite game from day to day,
By The Sea
© George Essex Evans
Bright skies of summer oer the deep,
And soft salt air along the land,
Breakage
© Michael Ondaatje
I go down to the edge of the sea.
How everything shines in the morning light!
Blowfly
© Andrew Hudgins
Half? awake, I was imagining
a friend’s young lover, her ash blonde hair, the smooth
Better or Worse
© Heather McHugh
Daily, the kindergarteners
passed my porch. I loved
their likeness and variety,
their selves in line like little
monosyllables, but huggable—
I wasn't meant
Book Of Suleika - Love For Love
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Yet thou feeblest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Joseph's graces borrow,
Breitmann As An Uhlan. II. Brietmann In A Balloon.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
WHO vas efer hear soosh voonders,
Holy breest or virshin nonn?
As pefelled de Coptain Breitmann,
Vhen he hoont an air-ballon.
Ballad of the Salvation Army
© Kenneth Fearing
On Fourteenth street the bugles blow,
Bugles blow, bugles blow.
The red, red, red, red banner floats
Where sweating angels split their throats,
Marching in burlap petticoats,
Blow, bugles, blow.
Beat! Beat! Drums!
© Walt Whitman
Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow!
Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force,
... by an Earthquake
© John Ashbery
A, undergoing a strange experience among a people weirdly deluded, discovers the secret of the delusion from Herschel, one of the victims who has died. By means of information obtained from the notebook, A succeeds in rescuing the other victims of the delusion.
A dies of psychic shock.
Albert has a dream, or an unusual experience, psychic or otherwise, which enables him to conquer a serious character weakness and become successful in his new narrative, “Boris Karloff.”
Basho's Death Poem
© Matsuo Basho
Sick on my journey,
only my dreams will wander
these desolate moors
Blowfly Grass
© Les Murray
The houses those suburbs could afford
were roofed with old savings books, and some
seeped gravy at stitches in their walls;
Bright Star
© John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
By The Potomac
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The soft new grass is creeping o'er the graves
By the Potomac; and the crisp ground-flower
Baseball’s Sad Lexicon
© Edwin Morgan
These are the saddest of possible words:
“Tinker to Evers to Chance.”
Breitmann About Town
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DER SCHWACKENHAMMER coom to down,
Pefore de Fall vas past,
Und by der Breitmann drawed he in
Ash dreimals honored gast.
Braggart
© Dorothy Parker
The days will rally, wreathing
Their crazy tarantelle;
And you must go on breathing,
But I'll be safe in hell.